


Happy Papa's Day

by MorbidbyDefault



Series: The Ginger Midget Case File [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ginger Midgets, Mycthea, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidbyDefault/pseuds/MorbidbyDefault
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Ginger Midgets Case File: Sherlock decides to take his wife and children to a very special Father's Day breakfast. All the original characters are belong to me. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Papa's Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



Well, this was SUPPOSED to be up yesterday, but ya know…long day and everything. Anyway, Happy Belated Daddy!lock day…I hope you all enjoy this story.

Also, this is dedicated to Sincerelydayyy, who needed a smile. So, hope you love it, darling.

I own nothing except for my original characters, because dude, they be my babies!

Happy Papa's Day

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sherlock had finally been sleeping soundly, much to Molly's delight. She had curled up next to him, and finally drifted off to sleep as well. However, the two were abruptly awoken by two very awake and hyper children. Sherlock groaned as he felt a pressure on his chest. He peeked an eye open, only to come face to face with his son.

"Daddy! Wake up! It's wake up time!" Flynn all but shouted into his face. Sherlock flinched at the volume, but chuckled lowly as he brushed a stray curl from between the little boys' eyes. Suddenly, his cheeks were smashed inward, two small hands moulding his face into strange expressions.

"Mo-ning, Papa!" Came the small voice from above his head. Sherlock's eyes moved to glance up, another curly head of red hair greeting him.

"Good morning, my dears." he stated in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake Molly. However, a light giggle from beside him said she was already awake.

"Molly, explain to me why our children have passed the usual option of pouncing on you too, and are strictly set on waking me up." He asked, not quite turning to look at her yet.

"I may or may not have told them about today." Molly giggled as she watched his eyes widen, before turning to her.

"Have I missed someone's birthday? Is it John…no…Mary's?" Sherlock furrowed his brow, waiting for a clue. The twins giggled as the rolled over and onto the bed between their parents.

"No, Papa! It's Papa's Day! It's your day!" Helena stated as she snuggled into his side. Sherlock glanced to Molly once more, who was smiling happily, running her hand through Helena's soft curls.

"That's right, sweetie. It's Father's Day, so we get to take care of Papa and spoil him so he knows how very much we love him." She glanced up at her husband, who had finally understood the significance of the day.

"So, why don't you two go and get dressed, and then Papa can decide what he wants to do today." Molly nudged the two, and they crawled to the end of the bed, before hopping off.

"Come on, Helena. Let's go so Daddy can get ready!" Flynn called, his red hair bouncing as he bolted from the room, his sister hot on his trail.

"Wait for me, Fwynn!"

Sherlock rolled over and caught Molly in his arms, pulling her close for a kiss.

"Mrs. Holmes, you've sabotaged my sleep with hyperactive children. I think today would be best spent reviewing what genes you contributed to make them so insane." Sherlock smirked. Molly lightly slapped him on the arm.

"Hey now, those 'hyperactive children' are half yours, too. Who says I gave them that gene?" She chuckled, before kissing him once more. Sherlock rolled her so she was on top of him now.

"So, what's this I hear about spoiling me?" He asked, quirking a brow playfully and giving her a cad smile. Molly laughed as he began kissing up her throat.

"That comes much later, after the twins are asleep tonight." She sighed, trying not to melt at his clever lips.

"Oh please, Molly? It will take Flynn at least ten minutes to decide which sock he wants the left one to be this time, and Helena won't be able to figure if she wants stripes, spots, or solids for her outfit for a good fifteen. Plenty of time for something." Sherlock's voice resonated against her throat. He could tell she was caving quickly by the pressure she bit down on her lip, already suppressing a moan. He bit lightly on her collar then, sucking gently on her soft skin.

"Oh, alright. But you'd better be as good and speedy as you think you are." She chuckled, taking note of the time.

"Oh, of course, love." He muttered on her flesh, before flipping them over. Just as he was working to remove her night shirt, Sherlock was cut off.

"Mummy! I need help!" A distressed Helena called out. Molly chuckled quietly, watching as her frustrated husband sighed and rolled over.

"Hit the showers, tiger. We'll continue this later." She purred, before rolling out of bed, quickly getting dressed, and walking out to go help her daughter. Sherlock growled to himself, almost cursing his body's eager betrayal.

OoOo

After helping to convince Helena that she was, indeed, the prettiest little vision in her polka dot top, black and white stripped leggings, and neon green tutu, Molly moved to the other side of the bedroom, to help a frustrated little boy with the button on his trousers.

"Mummy, I can't get it." He sulked, not meeting her eye line as she bent down to his level.

"Do you want me to do it this time, little bug?" Molly asked, tilting his chin up. Flynn had attempted hiding his tears, quite poorly, as the wet streaks lined his cheeks. Molly 'aw'ed at his emotions, and hugged him to her chest.

"Oh, Flynn honey, it's alright. You'll get it eventually. There's no need to cry over a silly old button." The mother soothed her young son, who sighed into the crook of her neck.

"But…but I can't do it! Why can't I?" he gazed at her wide with blue eyes, echoing Sherlock's. Molly buttoned his trousers up, before watching as the button slid easily out of the notch again. She smiled knowingly, and looked up at him.

"Because, you are too big for these. One too many sweets with Uncle Mycroft, and your little tummy expands a bit, doesn't it? Plus, these are your two year old trousers. You're a growing boy, we need to find some that fit you." She poked the tip of his nose, making the little boy laugh, before walking to his clothes chest and fishing out a new set.

New trousers put on, along with Flynn's favorite jumper, and they were ready. The small boy held onto his mother's hand as they descended the staircase. Once they reached the bottom, they looked up to see Helena twirling about, showing off her eclectic outfit to Sherlock. He smiled with amusement and adoration, watching her hair fluff out in a fiery halo around her head. She slowed, obviously growing dizzy, and before long, was falling onto her backside and giggling madly. Sherlock picked her up, kissing her cheek.

"You look beautiful, my sweet. Now, are we all ready and accounted for?" He looked around to see his family awaiting his decision.

"Ah, I think it is customary to go to breakfast, yes?" He looked to Molly for a hint, who nodded her head with a smile. The two children smiled excitedly.

"Bek-fas, Papa!" Helena cheered, especially happy with this time of day. Breakfast was her favorite meal, and the little girl could hardly wait for her dear Papa to select where they would be eating.

"I know just the place." He stated, giving Molly a smirk. They walked out of the flat, and down the steps of 221B, before walking onto the street. Sherlock had placed Helena's feet onto the ground, and immediately took her small hand in his. Flynn stood by Molly's side, content in watching the cars pass by. Sherlock stuck his hand out, hailing an oncoming cab.

"But Papa, I want to take the train! I don' like cabs." The little boy stated in an upset tone. Sherlock chuckled, ruffling the boy's small hair.

"Someday, Flynn, when you are old enough to make that decision for yourself, you may take the train. Until then, we take the cab. Trust me on this, my boy. It's a much better idea."

OoOo

As they drove through the city, the twins looked out the windows, attempting to correctly 'deduce' where they were going. Once they pulled up to a very familiar gate, however, the two looked to their father.

"We're at Uncoo Mycof's house, Daddy!" Flynn said, looking around at the beautifully kept gardens that lined the drive up to the large townhouse. Sherlock nodded his head, before looking over to Molly, who was eying him questioningly.

"He has some news for me, I believe, and I do owe him a favor. I figured the children would serve as a pleasant surprise for him." He stated coolly. Molly laughed, tempted to tease her husband and his poor attempt at hiding his sentiment for the elder Holmes. They left the cab, Sherlock paying the driver while the twins half sprinted their way to the door, Molly following behind them. Flynn jumped up and pressed the buzzer on the door, before standing a few steps back and waiting for the door to open. Helena and Flynn both fidgeted in anticipation, hearing footsteps approaching, and soon they looked up to see the very gentle expression of the woman they knew as 'Anta'. (Neither could properly pronounce 'Anthea', and she hadn't provided them with a different name to call her by.)

"Anta!" The two raced up, hugging her around the knees, and almost causing the woman to fall over. She smiled down at them, before ushering them into the house. Molly and Sherlock followed, shutting the grand door behind them. There, at the end of the corridor, stood a tall man in his usual suit and tailored vest. He tilted his head, smiling as the two heads of bright red curls suddenly bounded toward him.

"Uncoo! Uncoo Mycof!" Helena and Flynn shouted, before racing to him. The diplomat bent down, willing to accept their affectionate embraces.

"Hello, children. How have you been?" Mycroft asked, staying on their level as they began talking over each other, desperate to speak to their beloved uncle.

"It's Papa's Day! Daddy wanted to come here for bek-fas! Uncoo Mycof, do you get Papa's day Bek-fas too? Don' be siwwy, Fwynn, Mycof doesn't have kids! Uncoo, wook at my dwess!" They talked quickly, their voices mumbling and slurring as they tried to cram all the information into one breath. Mycroft chuckled, before standing. He took both of their hands in his, and led them to the dining room.

The twins raced around the long oak table, each choosing a chair on the opposite sides. Molly joined them, seating herself next to Flynn. Anthea also entered the room, sitting beside Molly and the little boy. Mycroft watched them from the doorway, and soon felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Does she know yet?" Sherlock asked, nodding his head toward the brown haired woman currently talking to his own wife. Mycroft shook his head.

"She is just starting to notice the symptoms. She'll know within a week, I suspect. Maybe sooner, if she actually pays attention." He sighed, looking to his younger brother.

"I'm too old to start a family, Sherlock. I, for the first time, am completely at a loss. It seems you have beaten me in the game of experience." Sherlock chuckled, before gripping his shoulder again.

"It'll be easy, Mycroft. Just tackle this like you would any diplomatic negotiation." He smiled smugly, before holding out his hand. Mycroft took it, shaking it firmly.

"Happy Father's Day, brother." Mycroft said quietly, a hint of a smile lining his face.

"Happy Father's Day to you as well, Mycroft."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Aaaaaaand there you have it. :D I hope you all enjoyed that. Stay tuned, as there is a picture in the works to go with this story. Thank you Nicole, for that, by the way. Anywho, I hope you all liked it, tell me what you think, please?


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